


With Eyes Closed

by Anika_Ann



Series: Damned [7]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Sorry, Major Character Injury, POV Matt Murdock, POV Outsider, So much angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:26:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22211752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anika_Ann/pseuds/Anika_Ann
Summary: The blood is thick under his gloves, his side throbbing with pain, and his body is so, so heavy.But he knows he has to make it home. To her. She would always wait for him to come home. He wouldn’t want to disappoint her now, would he?Possibly a standalone (the first chapter anyway).
Relationships: Matt Murdock/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Damned [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/838776
Comments: 18
Kudos: 15





	1. With Eyes Closed

**Author's Note:**

> I was feverish when writing this. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. You can ignore this if you don’t like the tag and stick with happiness I left them in. I just believe that some things are just condemned to not having a happy ending from the very beginning (DD's relationship. You know his reputation...)

God, his body felt so heavy.

Matt knew it was the bullets in his side; the throbbing pain slowly dulling, the overwhelming smell of copper and the blood loss, they were making him lose control over his body, while he had been trying to make it home, for her. He had to.

Vera would be pissed if he didn’t come home to her, didn’t come to her for help.

He stumbled into their apartment with a loud crash, his body colliding with the railing of the stairwell. _Shit_. That would definitely wake her up-- except it wouldn’t, because, apparently, she wasn’t asleep in the first place.

Matt limped down the stairs, ungracefully landing on the couch, smiling inconspicuously and unwittingly as he heard her slow footsteps from the bedroom. Sleepy. And _heavy_ , because she was carrying another life under her own heart, a piece of her, a piece of him. A piece of them and their love. _God,_ he had cried and cried when she had insisted on the one name, even when she had found out they were having a girl. It was incredibly sweet and he just loved her so much for it; as if he needed another reason.

“Hey,” he greeted her weakly, attempting his smile to be reassuring.

Vera sighed, walking to him, seating herself on the table in the living room so she could face him. She must have examined him with her eyes only – soundlessly – because she soon hissed as she saw his no doubt crimson hands. The wound on his side was… severe. And it was not a trickle of blood between his fingers; maybe when he was pressing really hard, yeah, but when he wasn’t… it was a steady strong stream. Matt knew as well as she did that something major had been hit.

Her heartbeat stuttered as she feared she wouldn’t be able to fix this one.

“Do you want to call Claire?” he asked, well-aware that Vera had never been the one to believe herself enough to handle a bullet wound. Hell, Claire would probably send him to the hospital as well. Especially since these were _two_ bullets in him.

“No, I can handle it. I mean, I know I always call Claire for an injury like this, but with Jackie… I feel stronger. We can do it. She wants to save you as much as I do.”

Matt felt his heart flutter at her words, the well-known pleasant weakness making him dizzy. He sobbed, reaching out to touch her grown belly. The moment his fingers traced it over the thin fabric, their baby kicked out as if wanting to say hello. Matt sobbed again, a shiver running through his body.

“Hey, looks like Jackie agrees with me. She loves you already.” She caressed her belly lovingly, stripping Matt’s glove before taking his hand in hers. Matt bit his cheek to stop himself from crying out in misery. He knew this was the end and he couldn’t decide whether he was glad or not. “Does it hurt too much?”

Matt shook his head hastily, his hair damped with cold sweat flying before sticking to his forehead again. He didn’t remember losing his helmet, but he must have done it along the way.

“Then what is it, Matt?” she asked gently, her other hand covering his as well, the one he had in his wound, trying only half-heartedly to stop the blood from pouring out.

“I missed you,” he whimpered miserably, his eyelids fluttering at their touch. God, he missed her so, _so_ badly. It was impossible to breathe without her, to live, to even exist.

“I’m right here, Matt,” she soothed him, soft smile in her voice. “Is that why you came so early? Because you missed me? Missed us?”

_Early._

Matt bit his lip. He was not about to admit that he might have been a little reckless just to be with her sooner. With both of them. His beautiful wife and their child. It wasn’t virtuous, so sue him, he wasn’t perfect. He was well-aware it was dangerously close to cheating, but not quite, he hadn’t pulled the trigger. He hoped it would be enough, that he could be forgiven for that.

“I was… I was hoping you’d be waiting for me.”

She kissed his forehead lovingly. His heart fluttered happily at the soft warm touch. She slowly moved to his lips as well, nibbling on them sweetly, tender, like a breath of life. Matt felt several tears escaping his eyes and unable to resist, he sunk into her lips, chasing the feeling he missed so much. 

“I’ll always wait for you, Matt. You know I’ll be here, waiting for you to come home.”

Matt’s mind refused to decide between sobbing and chuckling, so he let out a little bit of both, a strange choked noise.

“Shhh,” she soothed him again, running her hand through his hair, meeting his lips again.

Matt breathed her in, like a drowning man earning some oxygen after an endless time under water. Vanilla and coconut, coffee and her. And him over her. Warm skin, silk hair. His fingers eased the pressure against the blood flow, until he finally gave in completely and reached for her face with both his hands, pulling her closer.

“Come on, don’t do this to me,” she whispered exasperatedly, stopping the bleeding instead of him. Strangely enough, when she did it, it hurt less. Matt didn’t think it hurt at all actually, not anymore. “Not yet.”

Matt didn’t have to wonder what she meant. He should probably feel guilty, but for once in his life, he didn’t. This wasn’t his doing.

_‘Not yet.’_

_‘Came so early.’_

Matt had lost awareness of time, but there had been moments he knew _exactly_ how long it had been, counting it over and over again. That had been usually on the particularly bad days, the kind of days he would rather wear the same clothes over and over again than stepping into their bedroom to change, overwhelmed by the empty bed, the empty crib. The kind of days he would open his freezer where she had stocked the Christmas sweets leftovers and he would let one piece defrost just to crumble it between his fingers, letting the aroma spread in the apartment, lulling him to sleep as he would nestle on the couch, cold and alone, just like every other night for the past four years.

God, it had been _four years._ Four years, two months and nine days in his very own personal hell with no way out. The others had tried. Oh, they had tried so hard, to make him hang out with them, to make him get rid of her stuff, because until he would, there was no getting get over it.

The thing was, he didn’t want to get over it.

He knew it was sick; her shadow still being here, her words so sweet, the feeling of her skin and lips on him so real he could cry, her soap and shampoo he kept buying over and over just to hold onto her scent – and she always thanked him so sweetly for it in his mind –, because he was scared of forgetting. He was nursing the memories, the most precious thing, the only thing left.

The only thing left apart from his wedding ring. Foggy had tried to convince him to take it off, just _once_. Matt was doing it when going out at night, wearing it on a necklace instead, but when he had once done it outside that routine when meeting a client, a panic attack had him forget how to breathe. She had kissed his forehead then when he had returned home, whispering that it was alright, that she had forgiven him for the moment of confusion and weakness. He hadn’t done it since, only protecting the ring under his armour when punching people.

Maybe it was a quirk of fate that he had gotten shot multiple times just a few alleys over from the electric store where she— she-- God, she had just gone for a walk, stepping into the store for a baby monitor, because _‘not everyone has super-senses, Matt’_ , _Christ,_ just a stupid pair of muggers that had gotten a hold of a gun, twitchy finger, stupid timing, stupid place-

“I’m sorry, am I bothering you?” the beautiful phantom complained and Matt quickly returned his attention to her mouth, something much more pleasant to think of. She was here now, like always. Always waiting for him to come into her loving arms.

“No, my love. I’m so happy to be here with you. It feels like heaven,” he admitted quietly, causing her lips to curl up in a smile against his.

“Well, I always thought you were more of an angel than the Devil, so it seems like you’re in the right place.”

“I was never sure if I had hope. But I always tried, I really did, even… even _after_ , I wasn’t trying to— and I wanted to, God, I _wanted it to_ \-- so badly-“

“Shhh, Matt. I know. But you’re here now. I love you. That’s the only thing that matters.”

Matt clutched at her hair weakly, smiling wider as tears of relief rolled down his cheeks. It was enough in the end. It was enough.

“Yeah. We’re together and we’re home, sweetheart,” he agreed breathlessly. “That’s all that matters.”

\---

Tonya was kneeling by the lifeless body, her bloody hands that had been trying to stop the heavy bleeding by pressing against the masked man’s torso trembling violently.

The blond girl had only heard stories about him, the old ones about the hero, the newer ones too, where he had been described as… soulless. Still one of the good guys, still running to help, but merciless when it came to the attackers, never killing, but crippling so badly that it sometimes scared the ones he saved, grateful when he left them without a single word. People were afraid he had changed, that he was just an inch from crossing the line and becoming a murderer.

And now, when Tonya finally met him to actually create her own opinion, he was dying under her hands, breathing shallow until she thought he wasn’t breathing at all.

Tonya had called an ambulance what felt like ages ago, staying by Daredevil’s side. He was whispering something the whole time, something too quiet for her to hear, lips barely moving. It was terrifying, being unable to help him, but what was even worse – scaring the shit out of her – was that it seemed that the man was smiling.

He was smiling when his gloved hand left his side, more blood immediately pouring out. Her hands replaced his quickly, pleading him not to do this to him. He didn’t look like he had heard, his hands freeing something from under the armour on his neck, clinging on it like on a dear life until his body went completely limp.

Now, when the flashing light of a police car and the ambulance illuminated the alley, she was finally sure it was a wedding ring on a thin chain. She covered her mouth with her forearm as someone helped her up slightly, dragging her away from the body.

 _Christ_.

He was married. Tonya had never really thought about the man; however, somehow without even realizing it, she had always imagined him as an old bachelor. But apparently, Daredevil was- _had been_ married, there was someone waiting for him at home. A woman, a man, a family-- shit, maybe he even had kids…

“Fuck,” the policeman cursed as the paramedic stated that with two bullet holes in the guy and the coldness his body was radiating instead of a vivid warm there was just no way.

Tonya sobbed into her forearm.

“Fuck, _fu_ — HEY, leave the ring!” the officer exploded when his colleague reached for the metal band on the vigilante’s necklace. The said colleague nearly jumped out of his skin, dropping the evidence bag he had been holding in his hand.

“But-“

“Leave it! _Christ, four years…”_ he muttered under his breath and Tonya blinked in sudden realization.

Four years. It had been four years since the stories about Daredevil had started to change, since there had been whispers something in him had shifted, when his brutality had escalated. There had been a time period when it had even seemed he had even dropped off the face of Earth.

 _He didn’t have anyone waiting for him,_ Tonya realized, _not anymore._ He had lost someone; he had lost his partner, his family, whoever they might have been. And his behaviour made so much more sense, even the soft smile on his face. Had he been hallucinating because of the blood loss? Meeting them again?

“He was smiling,” Tonya whispered shakily, causing the cop’s head snap to her. She gulped. “He was smiling, whispering something I couldn’t understand.”

She was only met with silence. She leaned against the dirty wall, looking up to heaven, noticing that the officer did the same.

“Good to know, I guess.” A ghost of a sad smile appeared on his lips as he glanced at the masked man with an unreadable expression.

Tonya nodded and faced the night sky again. She felt few rain drops fall on her face; heaven weeping because of the loss, because of a good man dying. Tonya sent the guardian angel of Hell’s Kitchen a prayer.

“I guess,” she murmured, closing her eyes and trying to wipe off the scary picture of a dying man of her mind. Instead, she imagined a lone man, suffering for years, finally finding his peace.

She smiled at the idea inconspicuously, the rain drops serving as her tears, washing the blood off of her hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ‘Major character death’, they said. Well, there isn’t a tag that’s counting on plural. Oops. I just killed my favourite OFC, Matt and an unborn kid. What is even wrong with me? 
> 
> Title once more inspired by Halsey's Eyes Closed (stripped version is super raw btw)
> 
> This was supposed to be the end of Damned series. I made it better. Or… did I? You can roll with this being the end. Or read the shorty-short bonus chapter that follows…
> 
> Either way, **thank you for reading :-***


	2. (Bonus)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People don't die. Not on Terri's watch.

Somewhere in Hell’s Kitchen, a girl jolted awake with a scream. The man lying beside her nearly fell off of their bed, his heart almost stopping.

 _Jesus_. Another nightmare. _Vision?_

His girlfriend was panting, her eyes darting around their bedroom, her hand covering her mouth to stop herself from sobbing. He recovered, gently stroking her arm.

“Hey, Ter, you’re okay…” he mumbled on autopilot, causing her to shoot him a terrified look.

“Well, _I_ am,” she rasped, running her fingers through her bright orange hair.

“Vision?”

“Yeah. Really fucked up one.”

Victor frowned, squeezing her arm. He knew that his warm embrace could help if Terri had a regular nightmare like any other person. But Terri was special. And she hadn’t seen a random picture of terror – she had seen _the future_.

“What happened? What do you want me to do?”

Terri closed her eyes, tears escaping them. She breathed in and out shakily before speaking. Her voice was trembling. “For starters, stop Vera from going to an electric store to buy a baby monitor.”

Victor’s heart was breaking for the woman he loved, but now he was a little confused. “…okay?”

“They— they shot her, Vic, and-- and she died on spot, just like--- like the b-baby,” she sobbed and Victor quickly pulled her into his embrace, stroking her back lightly. Jesus. This world was so _fucked up_. “A-and Matt, he—he died years after-- after that and he was--- Christ, he was so isolated and he fucking died in a dirty alleyway-“

“Hey, hey, Ter, shhh.” He cradled her, her sobs loud in their bedroom, her tears soaking his t-shirt. Since when she was getting vision about _years_ from now? Was is because it was a direct consequence of the first event she saw? He kissed the top of her head. “No baby monitor for Vera, then. It’s okay. We’ll stop this.”

“H-how?”

Victor smiled to her hair, a reassuring smile Terri couldn’t see.

“Well, Vera stopped a building from falling on top of her fiancé – well, sort of. We can stop someone from _going to a store.”_

Terri chuckled humourlessly. “Stop her from doing anything? Have you met her?” she asked bitterly, making him sigh.

She might have a point. That girl’s head was harder than a brick wall. But she could also be reasoned with. And they had an ultimate weapon at their disposal. Victor smiled wider, his voice confident in his lover’s ear.

“I have,” he noted, almost casually. Terri stiffened in anticipation. “But I’ve also met you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I had to add this, because I couldn’t live with myself. I needed to fix it, I guess… 
> 
> You can ignore this part and end with the first one (or, you know, end with All the Colours and call it a day). But if you want, this is a prequel to the truly last fic of the Damned series. Ready? No? That’s fine, the story needs a lot of writing and editing to be done, so…
> 
> Thanks for reading :-*


End file.
